


The Branwen Bitch

by Softlight



Category: RWBY
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, bandit yang, yang is a bitch and i like her so much
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:35:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25001749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Softlight/pseuds/Softlight
Summary: But there were too few people willing to get close to the Branwen Flame, or, as some people called her when they thought she couldn’t hear, the Branwen Bitch.  She heard it whispered as she walked by, heard it shouted when she got into fights, heard it bloodily spat when she did her work.
Relationships: Blake Belladonna/Yang Xiao Long
Comments: 30
Kudos: 96





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt, "Why aren't you afraid of me?" from tumblr! Enjoy!

Yang was used to it. She was used to the stares that followed her wherever she went, even before people knew who she was. What she was capable of. She was used to the whispers as she walked by. She was used to the flinches whenever she moved too fast toward someone, to the fear that sparked in their eyes when she talked to them.

It was a lonely life, but it was hers. Which was a pity, because she _liked_ people. Yang enjoyed talking and chatting and bonding, Brothers, she loved bonding. But there were too few people willing to get close to the Branwen Flame, or, as some people called her when they thought she couldn’t hear, the Branwen Bitch. She heard it whispered as she walked by, heard it shouted when she got into fights, heard it bloodily spat when she did her work.

The Branwen Bitch. Her claim to fame, her inherited title. Her and her mother’s shared title. But her mother didn’t seem to hear the words, maybe even thrived off of them. Everytime Yang was there when someone called her mother that, Raven just remained stone faced as her eyes glowed bright and prepared herself for cruelty.

The Branwen Bitch. She acted like she didn’t hear the words, tried to master Raven’s cold stare, but Yang was anything but cold. She was heat and flame, and fire grew out of control easily. Too easily. And the words hurt, more than she cared to admit, but they were just words. They didn’t snap her bones or open her veins or bruise her skin. 

“Fuck you!” the man at her feet spat, blood spilling out of his mouth and over his lips. “Fuck you, you bitch!”

Yang looked down on him in disdain, flipping her hair over her shoulder. Ember Celica fired a round into his gut, and he ground out another scream. He had lost a lot of blood, but he wouldn’t die. The tribe would make sure of that. He wouldn’t be allowed to die before they got what they needed from him.

The raid was still going on around her, but it was mostly over. The people had fled deep into the mountains, and they had a few hours to round up what they needed from the small village before they came back and tried to fight back against them. They would fail, of course, but it was an inconvenience she didn’t want to bother with.

“Bring him to the truck,” she said, turning on her heel and not looking to see if she was obeyed. She knew she would be. It wasn’t even a question. Not when the tribe knew what happened to those who disobeyed Raven’s chosen heir. A title won, not inherited. A title she had fought for, not been given. 

She started the perimeter of the village, checking for stragglers hiding in the treeline or on the outskirts of town. Ember Celica remained cocked and ready, and her knives were still strapped to her. She rarely used them, but Raven insisted on her carrying them. The knives had been useful, she had to admit, but she still preferred the natural enhancement of Ember Celica over a blade. 

Her brow furrowed as she saw footprints leading into the treeline. Not towards the mountains, where most of the villagers had gone. No, these tracks lead elsewhere.

Yang threw a look over her shoulder, taking in the sight of her people, her tribe, working as a unit and efficiently stripping the village of its goods. She would not need to help them. She could indulge her curiosity. Perhaps this was where the village elder had gone to hide their few jewels, the jewels that would fetch a high price on any market. 

She walked deeper into the woods, one eye on the tracks and one on the trees above her. Getting ambushed from above was never pleasant, and after barely walking away from the first time she had been attacked from the trees, she had learned to keep her wits about her. The woods were thick with trees and plush with plants that she crushed underfoot. Beautiful. Calm. So at odds with the organized chaos behind her.

There was a blade to her throat before she realized what was happening, and, instead of fighting it, she barely bit back a smirk as the woman shoved her up against the tree. “Don’t speak,” the hooded woman rasped, as if she wasn’t used to talking. 

Yang rolled her eyes. Brothers, she was not in the mood for this. The blade started to dig into her neck, a thin edge of pain. So her attacker wasn’t afraid to draw blood. Still, she obeyed, casually taking in her position. The woman was before her and holding the blade out to keep Yang against the tree. Her face was masked, but the two lumps underneath her hood were unmistakable as ears. What kind, she didn’t know. But her attacker was Faunus.

There wasn’t supposed to be any White Fang around here. This was Branwen territory, even if they were on the edge of it, so the woman was probably just a villager. Still, Faunus were rare in this area, usually too fed up with the bullshit they had to deal with around here to bother to set down roots. Most Faunus were quickly driven out. So either this woman was new to the area, stupid, or stubborn. If Yang was lucky, she was all three. 

“What’s your name?” the woman asked. Her face was hidden in shadow, but Yang didn’t miss the golden eyes that peered out from underneath the mask and hood. 

Yang pretended to be afraid. “Ver-Vernal,” she stammered, making her eyes wide. The uptight bitch she had beaten out for the title of being Raven’s heir was always angry when Yang used her as a fake name, which only made her more inclined to use it. She exaggerated her swallow and audibly gulped. “What- what do you want?” she asked.

“Are you a bandit or villager?” the woman asked, ignoring her question.

Yang weighed her options in the blink on an eye. If she was asking, then she was stupid. “I’m from here,” she said. “I got separated from my family, and I couldn’t get to the mountains, and-”

“Quiet!” the woman hissed, pressing the blade closer to her neck. Yang nodded, keeping her eyes wide and watery. This was almost fun. 

The woman’s other hand fished into her jacket pocket, and Yang wrenched the arm holding the blade to her throat down as she swung for her neck, flipping them around so that the woman’s back was against the tree and Yang was holding her by the throat. The knife dropped to the forest floor, and the woman was clawing at Yang’s hand, but Yang just tilted her head.

“You know,” she said casually, examining her nails, “you really shouldn’t go up to just _anyone_ in the forest. There’s dangerous people about.”

The woman struggled in her grasp, and only then did Yang bother looking at her. She plucked the object the woman had fished out of her jacket and examined it as she held the woman against the tree. Her brows knit together. “What’s this?” she asked. She loosened her grip on her throat just enough to allow the woman to speak.

“Have you seen him?” she croaked.

Yang studied the picture. It was more detailed than a wanted poster, almost as if the page had been plucked out of a lover’s sketchbook. She took in the spiked hair and bull horns and sharp smile. There were two pictures, one of the man with a White Fang mask and the other with his face bare to reveal a hideous brand over his eye. Still, her stomach churned as she took in the face.

“What do you want with Adam Taurus?” she hissed, unconsciously tightening her grip once more. The woman choked, her nails digging into the back of her hand, before Yang loosened her grip once more. 

“Bounty,” the woman rasped.

Yang shook her head. “There’s no bounty on Taurus,” she hissed, bringing her face close to the woman’s. “So tell me what the fuck you want with him.”

“Fuck you,” the woman said, spitting at Yang’s eye and just barely missing for her cheek.

Yang ignored the spittle and slammed her against the tree once more. “What do you want with Adam Taurus?” she repeated, feeling her eyes blaze red with fury as her hair came alive with flame. The woman’s gold eyes widened, and Yang felt her throat bob underneath her fist in recognition. The gold eye gleamed not with fear, but with intellect, as if she was already filing away her identity. She normally would have smirked, but she was too enraged to bother. “What do you want with Taurus?”

“Revenge.”

Yang paused and tilted her head. Her hair was flaming around her, but she forced herself to think, to think, to _think_. “Why?” she asked.

The woman struggled against her, but she gave up and said, “He’s a bastard.”

“But what did he do to _you_?”

The woman’s gold eyes hardened. “He killed my parents.”

Yang’s breath caught, but she didn’t let it show. She took a deep breath, her eyes fading back to their usual lilac. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. She weighed her options once more, and she decided, against her better judgement, to release the woman. The woman didn’t move, but her chest heaved as she sucked down air. Yang studied her. “Taurus needs to be taken down.”

The woman nodded, rubbing her throat. “He does,” she agreed warily.

“Want to join me?” she asked, extending her right hand.

The woman blinked, but that was the only sign of surprise. “What?”

“I’ve been hunting him,” she said. She gave the woman a half smile. “And if you can get the drop on me, I’d prefer you by my side than against me.”

“Why? Why have you been hunting him?”

Yang waved her right hand and gave her a sharp grin despite the ache in her chest. “I owe him,” she said as casually as she could manage. The metal was dark and spray painted gold, although it was still splattered with blood. Her fingers flexed, the metal groaning against itself.

Something flickered in the woman’s gold eyes, but Yang couldn’t tell what it was before it was gone. “And you want me to join you?” the woman asked quietly.

Her easy grin faded slightly. “I need someone to watch my back when I go after him,” she said. “And you need someone to teach you how to properly fight.”

The woman crossed her arms. “I know how to fight.”

“Not like I do,” Yang pointed out. “I had you from the start. You need training if you want to take Taurus down.” 

“Well, you’ll never get the drop on him. You came through here like a damn flare. Adam is always protected, as if he needs it, and even when he’s alone, he’s always aware. You’d never get within thirty feet of him.” The woman studied her. 

Yang gave her a grin. “Then I guess we need each other,” she said, extending her hand once more. She raised her brow. “Join me. My tribe will take care of you while we train, and then we can go after him.”

“I work better on my own,” the woman said, something almost like sorrow in her voice. 

“So? You’re not good enough to take me down, and Adam is better than I am, even now.” Her throat bobbed. She had spent the last two years training, but she still wasn’t good enough. She still wasn’t lethal enough. “If we train together, we might be able to take him.”

“You don’t want me for a partner,” the woman warned.

Yang shrugged. “That’s my choice, though, isn’t it?”

The woman appraised her. “I used to be White Fang,” she said. 

Yang’s heart skipped a beat, but she kept her face neutral. “And I’m the Branwen Bitch,” she said flatly. “What better pair to take him down?” She jerked her chin. “You know how the White Fang works, and you’re like a ninja. I have the resources and the strength. We need each other if we want to take him down.”

The woman stared at her. Yang watched as she removed her mask and hood, revealing short dark curly hair and a face as beautiful as the night sky. Her golden eyes glinted in the dappled sunshine of the woods, catching the light as if they were pure sunshine. Yang arched a brow at the sight, but remained silent.

“Why aren’t you afraid of me?” the woman asked finally. “I used to be a terrorist.” Her voice was bitter and filled with enough self-hatred to make even Yang wince. 

But she simply shrugged. “I don’t think you’re very scary,” she said. The woman snorted, but then Yang asked, “Why aren’t you afraid of me?” Because she hadn’t seen the slightest hint of fear in those golden eyes, not for a second. Most people were terrified of the Branwen Flame on reputation alone, but this woman hadn’t looked scared for a moment.

The woman gave her a wry smile. “I don’t think you’re very scary.” But there was the slightest bit of warmth in her eyes. The woman extended her hand and shook Yang’s. “I’m Blake.”

Yang nodded. “Yang.” She clapped Blake’s back and led her back to the village. “You’re my guest, so if anyone gives you shit when I’m not around to deal with it, just give them my name, and that should stop it. If it doesn’t, get names and faces, and I’ll take care of them.” 

“I can take care of myself,” Blake said.

Yang shrugged. “The tribe is rough to newbies,” she said casually. “They need to see that you’re strong. We don’t have any extra tents, so you’ll be sleeping in mine while we’re on the road back to main camp.” Her mind was going a mile a minute, already picturing the argument she would get into with Raven when she got back. Her mother would not be happy, but Yang didn’t give a shit. 

She paused, turning to Blake. “Do you have any other belongings?” she asked, surveying her figure. She had a knapsack on her back, but it was small and worn. Blake shook her head, remaining silent. “We’ll get you some new clothes, then.”

“Thank you,” Blake said, voice distant.

Yang shrugged. “We need to get you equipped if we’re going to do this,” she said. “Because we are going to do this.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uh, here's chapter two. I'm gonna be updating this whenever the mood strikes me, no set update schedule here, but there is a plot and an ending, and I have Ideas, so have a little faith. ;)

Yang Branwen was odd. Blake had heard about the legendary bandit heir for years, about the flaming blonde who burned like the sun with a legendary explosive temper to match. In person, Blake could feel her crackle with power and strength. She glowed, Yang Branwen, and she wasn’t afraid to burn herself to ignite her enemies. Single-minded and furious, the Branwen Bitch lived up to her name.

Blake tried not to balk at how easily Yang had disarmed her. She was rusty, but Brothers, she hadn’t realized how bad it had been. She had gone without a training partner or regime for months now. Being on the run didn’t lend her much time to devote to training, but that wasn’t an excuse. She should have been training, should have been prepared, but losing the men Adam had sent after her had taken up most of her time. She usually barely had the time to sleep for a few hours before going back on the road. She hadn’t found any of his men tracking her in awhile, but she didn’t doubt that he was still hunting her.

She swallowed thickly, staring straight ahead. She felt the gaze of the bandits on her and Yang as they walked back through the village, but Yang merely straddled a motorcycle, tossed her a helmet, and cocked a brow. “Well?” the blonde said, tossing her a helmet. “Get on.”

Blake didn’t give herself a second to worry before she climbed on the bike, wrapping her arms around Yang, who chuckled. “Hold on tight, kitty cat,” Yang said, revving the engine. “We have a long drive back to camp.”

“What about the rest of your tribe?” she asked, tongue still unused to forming words after months of silence. 

Yang shrugged. “What about them?” she asked carelessly. “They’ll finish up here, and they know the way back.”

“You aren’t going to wait for them?”

“I need to give a report,” Yang said with a shrug. “And Raven wants me back at base camp to organize the incoming goods.” Raven, not _Mom_ or _my mother_ , Blake noted. Curious.

But her stomach clenched at the reminder of the raid around them. The Branwens were bandits. Bandits who raided villages. Bandits who stole and killed and ruined the land. Blake’s stomach churned, and she unconsciously held Yang tighter. 

She used to have morals. The woman she used to be would be spitting with fury at the thought of her joining up with bandits who held no regard for lives and recklessly hurt others. The woman she used to be would have tried to attack Yang, not teamed up with her. The woman she used to be would hate who she had become. 

But the woman she used to be died with her parents, and she didn’t get a say anymore.

Yang revved the engine again and chuckled as Blake clung closer to her. “Easy,” Yang said. “Have you never been on a bike before?”

“No,” she said. 

She could feel Yang’s grin, even if she couldn’t see it. “I’ll give you the ride of your life,” Yang purred, and then they were off.

Blake yelped as they tore through the town, the bike kicking up dust behind them. Yang let out a hoot as they hit the dirt roads, and, somehow, managed to speed up, and Blake grit her teeth as the wind sharply struck. She didn’t know how Yang managed to steer this thing, but she wasn’t complaining. It was faster than she could run, and she was tired of running.

The bandit camp was three hours of riding away. Three hours of holding onto Yang and thinking about what the hell she had agreed to.

They were going to train together to take down Adam. They were going to kill him. Blake was going to live among bandits and train with the Branwen Flame until they could take him down. They were going to kill Adam. They were going to kill Adam. They were going to kill Adam.

She closed her eyes. She could still see her parents’ bloodied and broken bodies, the way Adam had pulled up the video of their murders with that sickening grin on his face, as if he thought she would be happy, as if he thought he had given her a gift. He had killed her parents, her family, and thought he was doing her a favor. Blake grit her teeth.

She often wondered what had happened to their bodies. Adam had probably left them in Menagerie after he had slayed them, but she wondered if anyone had bothered to bury her parents, had given them a marked grave. She knew the people loved her parents, but the White Fang had basically taken over Kuo Kuana, and she wouldn’t be surprised if they had displayed her parents’ bodies as a warning to those who would dare to disobey. 

Blake still didn’t remember the majority of that night. It was a blur in her mind, and a part of her was grateful that she didn’t remember all of it. She had no idea how she had reacted after Adam had shown her the murder, had no idea how she had escaped. All she remembered was him screaming at her and then taking off running.

She had known even then that she would have to come back, but she couldn’t have stayed. She couldn’t bite her tongue and pretend anymore, even if that would have allowed her to stay close to Adam and given her the opportunity to hurt him. No, she had needed to get out of his grasp, out of his bed, out of his sight. Blake needed to get stronger before she could get her vengeance, before she could get justice. 

Her hair was blowing in her face, and she tried to fix it without taking her hands off of Yang. Yang drove _fast_ , and the wind kept bringing her hair in front of her face, even with the helmet. She didn’t dare take her hands off of Yang’s warm body, not when she had seen how Yang took corners as challenges and seemed to speed up whenever Blake started to feel comfortable on the bike. 

It wasn’t that she disliked bikes. No, the hard part was trusting that Yang wouldn’t accidentally kill her in her recklessness. The Branwen heir seemed to gleam with bad ideas and arrogance, and she had no doubt that the only reason Yang hadn’t killed her in the woods was because Blake could be of use to her. She couldn’t trust her with her life, but she could trust her with Adam’s. She had no doubt that Yang wanted him dead, and she could trust that.

Blake remembered that skirmish with the Branwens. Adam had come back smirking and bloodied, and he hadn’t bothered washing it off before reaching for her. She had only learned later that Adam had taken the Branwen heir’s arm. They had left for Vale not long after that and managed to avoid the majority of the fallout, but she remembered not believing how reckless he had been. The Branwen tribe tolerated the White Fang, and vice versa, but claiming Yang’s arm would have been enough for all out war between them. 

But Raven hadn’t declared anything, hadn’t retaliated. Adam had boasted that he had scared them off, but Blake hadn’t believed it. The Branwens were smart, and if they weren’t going after them, after him, there was a reason for it. Maybe it had been fear, but the whole tribe could have easily taken Adam. She didn’t understand then and she didn’t understand now why they hadn’t gone after them. 

Yang, though, Yang still sought revenge. Maybe that was enough, to have a single ally in this fight. It didn’t seem like the Branwen heir had access to the tribe’s forces and that they would be doing this alone. But that was a problem for later. Right now, she had to focus on surviving the night.

Blake could barely keep her eyes open. She had been moving for days now and had barely slept, managing to catch naps when she dared to break. The last town she had been in chased her out for being a Faunus, and, while she doubted that they would follow her once they had driven her out, she couldn’t be sure. She probably should pick up more ribbons and bows, but what was the point? The Branwens didn’t have anything against the Faunus beyond the White Fang. There would be no point in hiding when everyone already knew.

They approached a wooden spike gate, and Yang breezed past the guards without a second glance. She could feel their gazes on her, but she ignored it and remained focused on Yang as she pulled up beside a tent and parked her bike. Yang got off and Blake followed suit, nearly tripping over her feet. Sitting for three hours on a bike did her balance no favors.

“You can stay here,” Yang said casually, gesturing towards the tent. “I have to go talk to Raven.” Yang shook out her hair, the blonde strands gleaming gold in the dying light of sundown. “I’ll come back with food and a bedroll for you.”

“Thank you,” she managed, running a hand through her hair. She still wasn’t used to the short length, but she liked it, even if it was rough. Blake cleared her throat. “Should I do anything? I mean, is there anything I can do?”

Yang snorted. “Fuck, no. You just got here, and if you leave this tent, you will be filleted like a fish. Stay here, and wait until I come back.” Her face turned to stone. “I mean it. Don’t leave this tent.” Blake nodded, her throat dry, but Yang seemed satisfied. “Good. I’ll be back soon. Ish. If anyone comes looking for me, tell them to fuck off.” She winked, and then she was gone. 

Blake swallowed hard before ducking into the tent. It was sparsely decorated but obviously lived in. There were papers scattered everywhere, blueprints and letters and wanted posters from the looks of it. She didn’t dare touch them. Instead, she tentatively sat on the chair that was pushed out from a desk. It was better than sitting on the bed, even if Yang didn’t want her at her desk. 

She looked at the desk. There were tools littered across it and maps she couldn’t make sense of and mechanical parts. So the Branwen heir had a brain. She didn’t pick them up or move them around, but she looked over all that she could see. The papers on top seemed to be mechanical blueprints and ideas. Her stomach clenched as she realized as it was the blueprint for Yang’s arm. Upgrades.

Brothers, Yang must have built it herself. One handed and wounded, must have designed it and made it. Must have designed the gauntlets on her wrist, too. Blake tentatively unshouldered Gambol Shroud and looked at it. She hadn’t been able to properly take care of it, not the way she wanted to in the weeks on the run, and it showed in the weapon’s wear and tear. She wondered if Yang would be able to help her with an upgrade. 

She shook her head and re-shouldered Gambol Shroud, arching her back as she did. Her spine crackled and popped, and she was all too aware of how achey she was. She was exhausted. She needed rest for at least a few days before she would be back in fighting shape. 

No. She would rest tonight, and then she would get to work with Yang tomorrow. They would train, and train, and train, and that would be that. She didn’t have the time to lounge around and recover and heal. The longer she waited to confront him, the more damage he would do. To Menagerie, to the White Fang, to the Faunus, to everyone. And she couldn’t let him enact any more harm, to anyone. No, Adam was her responsibility to destroy, once and for all.

She sighed, leaning back in the chair. He was her burden to bear and ruin, and she would do it. For Menagerie. For the Faunus. For her parents. She needed to end him once and for all. That was the only way to stop him, the only way to right his wrongs. It was her responsibility, and one she was sure to follow through on.

Blake took a deep breath. She was going to kill him, and she was going to put an end to his cruelty. She would do this, and the world would be righted. At least a little.

“Well, that went well,” Yang announced, striding into the tent. Blake turned around to see Yang running a hand through her hair. “You’re free to stay, by the way. Raven said you can stay as long as you pull your weight around camp.” Yang sat down on the bed and pulled off her boots. “We’re good to train as long as you can do that.”

“I can do that,” she said quickly. “But what do I need to do?”

Yang shrugged. “This, that. Day to day shit. It’s easy.” Yang rolled her head around her shoulders and sighed. “We’re out of bedrolls. So you’ll have to share with me.” Blake’s throat dried up as Yang shrugged out of her top and flung it across the tent. She swallowed hard as she took in Yang’s freckled and heavily scarred skin. “Unless you want the floor.”

“I’ll take the floor,” she said, averting her gaze. 

“Suit yourself,” Yang said, stripping down to her underwear before pulling on a loose t-shirt and tossing Blake one. “Here. I take it you don’t have pjs?”

Blake turned her back to Yang and tentatively stepped out of her clothes, setting her pack and clothes on the chair she was sitting on before getting into the t-shirt Yang gave her. It was big on her, bigger than it was on Yang, and the neckline kept slipping around. Still, she was grateful for the sensation of clean clothes against her grimy skin. “Thanks,” she said, turning back around. “Where can I wash my clothes?”

“I’ll take you there tomorrow,” Yang said. “I can loan you some clothes until yours are clean.” Yang twisted her hair into a high ponytail, moving over to the sink to wash her face. “I’ll take you to the showers tomorrow too, but it’s almost midnight. We both need rest.” 

Blake got behind Yang and washed her face and arms after Yang finished. The blonde was turning off the lights around the tent, and soon the tent was dark. “Are you sure you don’t want to share? It’s big enough,” Yang asked once more, already climbing into the bed. “I don’t really care either way, but the floor isn’t exactly comfortable, and you need to be ready to train tomorrow. I’m not going to go easy on you.”

Blake hesitated, looking between the cozy bed and the hard floor before tentatively nodding. “Alright,” she said. She tentatively walked to the other side of the bed and crawled in, the oversized shirt riding up to around her hips as she slid beneath the blankets. Yang radiated heat, even from over a foot away, and a shiver went through Blake from the cold sheets. She was stiff as a board against the lush mattress, even as the bed swallowed and cupped her aching body. It felt good. Brothers, she hadn’t slept on a bed in months, and it felt too good to be true. 

“Goodnight, kitty cat,” Yang said, turning onto her side away from Blake.

Blake narrowed her eyes, but she remained still. “Goodnight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! <3

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it! I may write more for this AU, but let me know what you think! Feel free to send me prompts on tumblr at softlighter. <3


End file.
